What’s with this weather?
Seriously, it’s like Spring in New England here for some reason. It was cold this morning, and super windy again, but I got my 5 miles in. Didn’t have my phone with me, because it was loading up music. As my headphone connector I ordered came in, and my USB-c to USB connector. As well as my Bluetooth speaker, which for a €40 speaker is amazing. A little heavy on the bass, but in a big room it should sound great. I’ll write up a full review after I run it through a whole cycle, hit all different situations.
Meanwhile, last night had a really bad nightmare, and I think it’d worth sharing with everyone. I usually ignore my nightmares, I have them so frequently. But I actually think this one is worth analyzing. It was fairly troubling for me, and unlike most of my nightmares ended with my death, I think. At the very least, the thought that I could not possibly survive what had happened. For those who don’t know, my dreams are always very vivid, and fairly scary most of the time, very infrequently are they sexual in nature, or even anything nice. Although, I find living in Italy the more nightmarish aspects have gone to the wayside most of the time. But let’s get into this one particular one.
So it starts nice enough, a friend of mine from elementary school and I are walking through the streets of our city. We are having a conversation about all manner of social justice issues. My friend and I, in reality and in the dream, are in almost perfect agreement in a wide range of issues. So far, so good, perfectly pleasant right?
As we get to the main intersection in the downtown area, a van pulls up in front of us, blocking traffic in all directions and a European male jumps out with a bomb vest on and an automatic weapon, starts screaming about how everyone better freeze where they are and shut up and listen to him. Obviously, the scene is chaos at this point, and eventually he gets the crowd under control. My friend and I, being on the opposite side of the van, decide it is a good idea to crouch behind the engine as it should probably protect us from any shrapnel when this guy decides to blow himself up.
He starts his manifesto, and we’re listening to thus nonsense, and he starts changing into all these different ethnicities as he’s going, but the speech never changes, it stays the same. He keeps cycling through as he talks about all this conspiracy theory nonsense about Rothschilds and chemtrails and vaccines, and all this other shit, and it’s shit.
At some point my friend decides she has to get to the other side of the street. Not to stop him, just needs to cross the street. I tell her I’ll stay behind the van, and I think it’s a bad idea that she try, but not to worry, I’ll get her back if anything happens. So as soon as she appears he flips out and tackles her.
I of course come out to save my friend and she had this strange taser-like device she’s using on him and wrestles the gun he has away from him and keeps zapping as I’m running in to restrain him. Just as I’m about to get there, she stops, looks at me and smiles this really evil grin, and he looks at me with the same look (at this point he looks like Uncle Ruckus from The Boondocks) and pulls a handgun from his vest and empties the damned clip into my chest and stomach.
Now, I said I dream vividly, and there was real pain there. As I write it, I feel ghost pain again honestly, it hurt. Having never been shot, I’m sure it doesn’t compare, but there was a searing, sharp pain where I dreamt the bullets struck me. As hard as I tried to reach for the weapon, I couldn’t, the pain stopped me. And as I thought to myself, “there’s no way I can live through this.” I hear them laugh and I wake up.
As far as “mighty morphin’ terrorist” goes I think that’s just my mind reminding me that all terrorists, no matter where they’re from, or what their experience, or background, where they’re born, what their religion is, are all the same. They all believe themselves just, righteous patriots hell-bent on making things the way they believe it should be, without regard, or care for anyone or anything else. A very imperialistic world view.
The whole thing seems pretty straightforward to me honestly. I don’t mean to hurt or alienate any of my friends. I don’t wish anyone take this personally, but the other part, my friend apparently betraying me; I think that is a manifestation of the fear I have that when it comes down to it in the end, everyone has a price. It’s paranoia. It scares me, I am aware of it. I don’t let it control me, but it is there. I have no reason to have it. Every time the situation has been really dire, I’ve always been able to count on certain people. Sure, some people have abandoned me in times of great need. But my real friends are always there just like they know I’m there for them. No matter what though, I can never rid myself of this fear.
As I said, no one should take that personally, I’m not “vague-booking” (would it be “vague-blogging”) anyone here. I’m not calling anyone out. I’m saying I struggle from time to time with these feelings, and I think this is where this particular nightmare stems from.
I often worry about mental illness. I’m not psychiatrist or psychologist, but I have seen enough family members struggle so mightily with daily life. I see people on the street yelling at imaginary beasts and imaginary people and think about how easily that could be me,or someone I know. I constantly am looking at what I’m thinking and acting and questioning if I am exhibiting any symptoms I need to worry about. Most of the time, I’m happy to report that no, I don’t feel I should be worried.
What is all this good for? I keep myself reminded that if I feel I need help, or if others express real concern and suggest I need help, that I will seek it. I will not ignore it, or be too complacent with the idea nothing is wrong, or think I can handle it. I say that now, but I wonder if I were really having a problem, would I be able to recognize it? The good news is, I don’t feel a stigma in talking about these things. I don’t allow vanity, pride, fear or whatever get in the way of saying that there is nothing wrong with seeking help with any illness.
Have fun, keep running, and remember; if Gil can run then so can you!
Posted in Uncategorized by Gil with no comments yet.
Leave a Reply